"In the name of Wisdom, I sacrifice this first catch."
It wasn't much of a prayer. Rather trite, really, when you consider he was saying it as he killed a living thing. The flapping fish held on the rock altar before the White Oak, Tom sliced his fishing knife down into its body just behind the front fin. Its blood, juices, whatever you want to call them, came out, even as the fish struggled harder for a moment beginning to still. Liquid, clear-ish red, hit the rock as his knife began moving down the length of the sacrifice's body, following the ribs. It had been years since he had filleted a fish, but Tom's hands were steady. One filet now off, he turned the fish over, repeating the process. The rock under his hands warmed, as if nourished by the blood. So, too, the tree before him glowed.
"In the name of Wisdom, I offer this in thanks."
Both filets off, he left them on the alter and picked up the carcass by the tail. Moving to his left, he stood before the fire. Yesterday had been spent building the stone fireplace, rocks stacked up to the level of the altar, with slightly higher sides to hold in the wood and coals. The fire wasn't that big, but figuring it should do the job he lowered the fish head onto the center of the coals, letting go of the tail. The body dropped down, sparks and smoke rising. Picking his knife and the two filets up, he stepped back.
He could hear her. Hear Wisdom sigh in pleasure, the smoke rising up into her branches even as the blood trickled down to the ground. Bowing, trusting a God could make sure the unattended fire did no mischief, Tom turned and began the short walk down to camp.
****
Tom was not a religious man. Had not been raised religious. Mom and Dad had taken them to church on Christmas Eve and Easter, maybe a few other times. Now and then, Mom would get the bug, and they'd go for a few weeks. Then something would come up, they missed a week, then a month. He wasn't even sure what he was, religiously. Whatever type of Christian wasn't Catholic. Sunday school, needless to say, had not been a regular part of his growing up. He knew little, mostly what you pick up on TV, or in movies. He knew of animal sacrifices. Kind of remembered the Jews did them, although he didn't think they did now. You'd probably have PETA bitching about them if they were.
Stepping out of the Sacred Path, Tom made his way across the meadow to his camp. The sun was up, a little, the day just starting. He had risen with the desire to test out his new fishing pole, using some worms he had gathered before bed. Five minutes later he had a fish. What kind? Who knew. The kind big enough to eat. Sitting down on the collapsible chair he had bought with the pole, he tossed some butter in the waiting frying pan, then the fish.
This was how it was going to work, he thought. The Lady would provide. He, Tom, would give her part of the first whatever. After that... well, probably, there would be holy days at some point. Her version of Christmas or the 4th of July. But, apart from that, just don't anger her, be ready to jump when she called, and life would be good.
He could do that.
The idea that there WAS a god, though, a living... well, not breathing, god, still amazed him. He hadn't been an atheist, naturally. No sane moral person would call themselves one of those. But, god, or, God, had been for those better than him. For those with family, friends. God had seemed to have no place in his plans for Tom, so Tom had not bothered to have a place for God.
That, he now knew, had been very stupid of him.
The fish sizzled nicely. He probably should learn how to cook it well, but for now he just wanted something in his tummy before going back into town. Flipping the fish over with an old metal spatula, he thought again about what he was going to need. A saw, yes. Ax, not just the small hatchet he had. A book on how to build a log cabin would be nice. Maybe some plans. Tom was sure, with Wisdom to guide him, he could build something on his own. She had already strongly hinted, though, that she would not actually DO any work. Provide, yes, but it was up to him to use what was provided to create what he needed.
A wife.
That's what he needed. A wife. It was kind of required, if he was to found Wisdom's new people. No woman, no descendants. His eyes went over to his tent. A woman. Companion. Someone... to be with him. Talk to him. Hold him. Someone... to UNDERSTAND him.
"Lady," he whispered, "help me to find her."
****
One hundred and twenty dollars.
At least. More, probably. Taxes, fees. Close to a hundred and fifty dollars, maybe, to bring her closest friend and her younger brother out of bondage.
And Alice didn't have it.
Eighty. If she asked Mr. Falk for all of her next paycheck, she'd have eighty. And she had to pay for food. Would have to pay for food for all three of them! And there wasn't a need for more employees here. She knew that. Most of the customers came in when Mr. Falk was here, and he only paid her to work when he wanted time off, or to stock shelves. The sweet man was generous, but not THAT generous!
God, what was she going to do. Sitting down on a stool behind the register counter, she lay her head down on the worn, polished wood top. What could she do...
Alice didn't even look up as the sleigh bells rang. Fuck customer service. She needed someone to help HER! A white knight, to swoop in, save her and her friend...
"Um... excuse me."
Alice raised her head. It was him. The man from the day before. She looked up into brown eyes that seemed to swallow her. He, too, seemed to be staring at her. Realizing that, she jumped up, hands reflexively going to straighten her long dirty blond hair.
"Oh! Sorry! Um, hi! What can I do for you?"
The man smiled. It was an honest smile. Not one that wanted something from her. Well, given he was in a store, he probably did want something. God, she was being an idiot. His eyes left hers, looking around.
"Well, I do need a book or magazine on building log cabins, but..." His eyes returned to her, concern plain to see. "Are you OK? Anything I can do?"
Yes. He could give her a few hundred dollars.
The man blinked.
"Excuse me?"
Oh God! She had said it aloud! Her hands flew up to her mouth, eyes wide in horror.
"Oh God! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say that! Please! Don't think I'm like that! I'm sorry!"
He laughed. There was a... self depreciation in that laugh. The man's life had been hard, too. She could hear that, see it in how he moved, now that she looked. Shaking his head, the man's smile was rueful.
"It never hurts to ask, naturally."
"God, I'm an idiot. I'm sorry."
"You already said that, and I said it's OK. Don't worry about it."
Her face had to be bright red. Alice hated being embarrassed. It was just, well, embarrassing! Focusing, willing the blood to leave her face, she regained her composure. Eyes going back to the stranger's face, Alice almost lost it again. There was sympathy on his plain face. She didn't want sympathy. She was strong. Could take care of herself. Was going to.
"OK," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm not sorry. What did you need again?"
He nodded, moving back from her a touch. That... that was sweet, giving her more personal space. His eyes went around the store.
"I have some land near here, and I'm thinking of building a home on it, maybe a log cabin type thing. Right now I'm in a tent."
"I'm in a tent, too," she said, without thinking. His eyes widened a bit. Alice smiled. "That's going to have to change before winter."
"Exactly. So, I have to figure out what I can build by myself before fall. I have experience with Lincoln Logs, so there's that."
She laughed, rewarded with the stranger's smile. She moved her right hand up to brush some of her long blond hair out of her eyes.
"I love log cabins," she said.
"Really?"
"Yeah." Her face once again felt a bit hot. "I saw Little House on the Prairie a lot as a kid, although that wasn't really a log cabin. I even designed one in school."
"You did?" He leaned forward again, one hand on the counter. Alice found herself leaning towards him as well, hand holding onto her side.
"In Mechanical Drawing. Our teacher thinks he's teaching future architects, so he likes giving us all these design projects. It was fun. I did a log cabin last semester."
A wave of depression hit. Her current project was on her desk at home. A restaurant to fit into Central Park. She'd never finish it. Never hand it in to Mr. Keller. Never... never graduate. Never...
"Hey." His voice was soft. His hand was, not on hers, but next to it on the counter. Alice's gaze came up into his eyes. "If you want to talk about it with a total stranger..."
****
Her name was Alice.
Tom watched as she dove into the burger and fries. She had said the diner gave her a discount, but it was obvious she had not been spending much on food regardless. This might even be her breakfast, or brunch. Hell, if he didn't do something for the poor girl, it might end up being her "lupper". He felt a bittersweet smile at that word. His sister had invented it, combining lunch and supper. Little Mary...
Alice was a runaway. It hadn't taken any prodding to get that out of her. She was almost proud of it. Proud she had taken the initiative to get out of a bad situation, had the strength to get out of the city. Ah, the folly of youth. Only exceeded by the folly of age. Sixteen, she came up to his shoulders, her body slender rather than slim, with soft curves. Blond hair fell perfectly straight just past her shoulder blades, her eyes blue, intelligent. Very intelligent, much more so than him it seemed. Tom was firmly average in his estimation. She was anything but.
"I thought it was all going to be OK," she was saying, swallowing. The teen paused to take a sip of her drink. Non-diet Coke, as if she realized even empty calories were better than none. "Once I got here, I mean. I had a job, a place to sleep. I was safe. I could stop worrying for awhile."
"But."
"But," she agreed, shaking her head. Alice looked down at her half eaten burger. Tom sighed.
"There's always a 'but'. I learned that." Her eyes came up, regarding him with... sympathy? Naw. It wasn't pity, though. That was good.
"I have to get my friend out of there," she went on. "Have to. I promised."
"How much was the ticket?"
"At least $60 each," Alice said, eyes dropping. "Too much. And I can't ask anyone. I know what it will sound like if I ask someone. What... what they'll expect as payment. And I can't. Not even for her..."
Tom closed his eyes. He agreed. If he offered to help, he knew what it would sound like as well. What this beautiful girl would think he wanted in exchange. Did he want it? Yes. But that's not why he would help. Although... what if she was the one? What if The Lady had sent her, sent her and her two friends? He needed a wife. Wives. Companions. Helpers. Even the boy would be a welcome addition. Four of them could build a home. Plant crops. Make the land bountiful.
He felt a soft touch on his hand. She was looking at him.
"What is it?"
What indeed. Tom took a deep breath, eyes meeting hers.
"What if... well, what if you three came to work for me."
"What?" Her eyes widened. He chuckled.
"It's stupid, I know. I have no money. But, hear me out. I want to start over on this land, which is beautiful. A... well, a gift from God." Literally, although he refrained from saying it. "I want to build a home, tend the land. Live off of nature. I can't do it alone. If I pay for your friends to come here, the three of you could come live with me. Help me build what we need, farm, hunt, whatever else. I can't pay you, but neither would you need to spend money. And... yes, I know what this sounds like."
"Yes," she agreed, voice dry. "It does sound like that."
Tom reached into his pocket, not easy to do when sitting, pulling out a pocket knife. He slid it across the table to her, the teen's eyes widening.
"You three should be able to hold me off, but here's a knife. I promise never to hurt you."
She took it, hands nimbly opening the small blade.
"You won't expect us to sleep with you? Cause we won't."
Something in her voice sounded uncertain on that point. It was probably his imagination. She was strong. He nodded.
"It's been so long, I doubt I remember how, anyway." His eyes caught hers. Alice blushed.
"We..." She took a deep breath. "Thank you."
"We'll figure out who has to thank who later."
"OK." Alice smiled. That's how she should be, Tom thought. This girl should always be smiling. She reached into her own pocket. "Let me call Krissy, tell her what's up." She paused. "Um... mind if I talk to her alone first?"
Tom stood, laughing.
"I'll go settle the bill. Wave when you're done."
****
"We're going to what?"
Krissy's voice reacted about how Alice expected. She smiled, picturing her friend, eyes wide in surprise and shock. It made her feel better, having someone else joining her in being unsure about all this. A reminder of how lonely she had been the past week.
"You heard me. He pays for your tickets and picks you up at the bus stop, and we go live on his land. I'll talk to Mr. Falk, see if I can take the tent with us. It's big enough for the three of us to use, if you don't mind sleeping next to your brother."
"None of us will be in HIS tent?"
"Not unless we want to."
There was a moment's silence.
"You want to, don't you?"
"I... I don't know. You know I won't do this lightly, Krissy. You know that, right? Neither of us are like that."
"We'd have more options if we were."
That was true. Options that could lead them downward even faster. Alice wasn't going to have that argument now, though. There wasn't time.
"Krissy... this is the only way. The only way I can bring you here. I'm sorry. If you say no... that's it. If you go back home, wait a few weeks, maybe I can get the money together..." Alice was almost crying. She wanted her friend to come. Wanted to see her. The whole thing with the man Tom didn't matter. Maybe they could just tell him to forget it once Krissy and Zak were here. He couldn't force them! That would be evil, but if it saved Krissy from her father...
Alice heard low voices on the phone. After a moment, Krissy spoke.
"Zak's for it. I think he just wants to play in the woods."
"And you?"
"Why not," Krissy said, Alice relaxing as the words penetrated her worry. "It doesn't sound that bad, and I do trust you. You've steered me away from many bad people. If you say he's a good one, then he is."
"I think he is." Alice turned in her chair. Tom was over by the register, looking at her. She waved. "I'll let you talk to him, then we can see about bringing you home."
****
Krissy had never been out of the city.
This was not something she was ashamed of, or even an indication she hadn't traveled. Krissy had traveled. It was more that New York was so big, the adjacent places just a continuation of it regardless of their names. You could travel on the subway for half an hour, more, even, and still be in the place you called home. New York was not a city. It was a world.
A world she had now left. Krissy looked out the bus window. Night had fallen. She could still make out the trees lining the highway, the outline of buildings, but mostly it was lights. Lights on signs, lights on posts, lights on vehicles moving towards her, or away. White, red, green. Blurs, only occasionally coming into focus.
She thanked God they had left. Thanked him for getting them away from her father. Thanked him, even, for making Dad slap her the other night. That had done it. Dad had never hit her. Never. And he never would again. She never would have had the guts to do this, without the sting of his hand.
Not that the same message couldn't have come from on high less painfully. She wasn't that dense.
At the sound of a page turning, Krissy looked over at Zak. Her brother was reading, the bulb over his seat giving off just enough light. Getting Zak away from there was worth the slap. With Mom gone, only she had been there to shield him. Shield him from anger that for some reason had been growing. Smiling, she put her light hand on his dark brown arm.
Zak's birth had not destroyed her parents' marriage. It should have. That probably would have been for the best of all involved. But, no. Dad and Mom stayed together, Dad... tolerating raising the evidence of her infidelity. Krissy had learned early on that brothers and sisters of different colors were not normal. Had heard the teasing neither side was old enough to fully understand. She loved her little brother, though. All the teasing did was bring them closer together.
"Do you have enough light, Zak?"
"Not really." He moved his bookmark, a white straw wrapper, closing the book with a sigh. It was some fantasy tale with a dragon on the cover. Putting it in his lap, he leaned back in the large cushioned seat. Krissy squeezed his arm again.
"We'll be there soon. Don't worry."
She'd worry, though. With Mom gone, it was her place to worry. Worry about Zak. Worry about him being safe. About him getting enough to eat. He was small for his age, looking not even twelve instead of fourteen. Was that her fault? Had she not given him enough food, or the right kinds? Dad hadn't cared. It was her job. Maybe, though, he just looked like his father. Whoever that was. Mom had never said anything about the man, but Krissy could see her hooking up with some skinny wimpy guy, the total opposite of her hulking husband. Well... Krissy couldn't actually see it, really. Could not picture her late mother in bed with anyone. Especially not Dad. Whoever the one night (or week, or month) stand had been, he had been smart. No question about that. Zak certainly didn't get it from anyone else. Not from Krissy. She was honest about that. Alice was smart. She wasn't. Alice was many things she wasn't.
"I love you, Krissy."
Zak's eyes were closed as he whispered those words. She smiled, tears threatening her eyes. With no sound but the rumbling of the bus, she slid her hand down his arm until their fingers touched, intertwined.
"I love you to, Zak. We'll be OK."
Let us be OK, she prayed. God, let us be OK…